Men were removing the faded flowers or sitting at the abandoned table eating and drinking.

Everywhere there was disorder and waste, and from the servants' quarter came a noisy sense of riotous feasting.
"Where is Mrs.Denning ?" Ethel asked a footman who was gathering together the silver with the easy unconcern of a man whose ideas were rosy with champagne.

He looked up with a provoking familiarity at the question, and sputtered out, "She's lying down crying and making a fuss.
Miss Day is with her, soothing of her." "Let us go home," said Ethel.
And so, weary with pleasure, and heart-heavy with feelings that had no longer any reason to exist, pale with fatigue, untidy with crush, their pretty white gowns sullied and passe, each went her way; in every heart a wonder whether the few hilarious hours of strange emotions were worth all they claimed as their right and due.
Ruth had gone home earlier, and Ethel found her resting in her room.

"I am worn out, Ruth," was her first remark.

"I am going to bed for three or four days.